THE INTIMATE FRIEND.

CHARLE

BY MRS. H. C. GARDNER.

CHAPTER I

HARLES LANE had been established in a prosperous business eight years, and was nearly thirty years old when he first seriously proposed to himself to win a wife to brighten his home. He had so resolutely remained single while one after another of his young associates had soberly settled down in life, as the head of a family, that people had ceased to calculate the chances for this or that suitable young lady ever becoming Mrs. Lane; and his gallant attentions to the fair sex had come to be regarded by them in the light of common property. And it is not at all improbable that he would have passed quietly down into the vale of cheerless old bachelorhood, had he not become acquainted with Miss Catherine Hamilton, the sister of a beloved friend and former class

mate.

She was not quite eighteen when he married her, and the disparity in their ages for a long time kept him from regarding her in a different light from that in which she stood to his friend's family-a household pet, bright, merry, and affectionate, used to all sorts of indulgence and flattery, but not spoiled by it. But the fresh charm of her manner, and the untutored, artless expression of her thoughts, as yet uncorrupted by the intercourse of fashionable city life, had a graceful loveliness in the eyes of the wearied man of the world, superior to all that he had hitherto found in female society, and so he brought her from her country home, and established her in a fashionable city residence, and introduced her as his wife to his critical associates, with the firm conviction that they would be as delighted as himself with his choice.

For her sake, so young and so gay-hearted, he renounced at once those habits of study and retirement which had become almost a second nature. For years he had preferred a quiet evening with his book, to the gay parties to which he was constantly invited, and had asserted his bachelor privilege of remaining at home whenever he chose; but now there was no end to the invitations that poured in upon them, and which were unhesitatingly accepted for the sake of the young wife, and for a time he enjoyed the change. He observed, with pleasure, the effect of Kate's simple beauty upon the idle crowd, to whom a new face was nearly as attractive as a new bit of gossip. To her, every thing was novel and charming. At her age she was not likely to observe the artificial smile, the studied intonation of affected interest in conversation; to her, the tinsel glare was a de

lightful reality, and she did not once dream that there could be insincerity in the professions of affection that greeted her at every turn. There are many, older and more experienced than Kate Lane, who have yet to learn the hollow heartlessness of mere fashionable society.

Charles soon became wearied of the endless round of amusements, and often excused himself on the plea of business, when a suitable female chaperone could be found for Kate. "She is young, and needs all this society," he would say, often, as the carriage containing his wife and her particular friends drove away; "but when she gets older, she will tire of it, as I do, and then we will have a home together."

Kate, on her part, often wondered at his persistence in sending her so often abroad, when it would be so much pleasanter to remain with him at home, but she was too much occupied by the succession of pleasures to which she was introduced, to reflect very deeply upon the subject. There was a Miss Bryant, to whose particular friendship Charles had himself recommended her, soon after her marriage, who had by rapid degrees gained her confidence, and an influence over her, which promised no good. were not claimed by general society, were not free from the familiar intrusions of the intimate friend, and the frequent repetition of "Dearest Fanny," and "Darling Kate," soon jarred upon the husband's ear more than he would have freely confessed.

The few hours that

There was another thing that began to trouble him. There was a great change in his wife's taste in dress, and the becoming simplicity that had so attracted him as a lover, was fast changing into a close attention to the ridiculous requirements of fashion. It seemed to him that the important shopping expeditions upon which his wife and her friend were so often absent, made up too much of a woman's existence, and he soon learned to consider a call from Miss Bryant as a signal for the appearance of milliners and dress-makers. But only on one point did he place any restriction upon Kate's unbounded liberty. He insisted that she should, on no consideration, ever incur debts that she was unable to pay. With an earnestness that greatly impressed her, he pointed out the easy path to ruin, that so many pursue, and made her promise, that, in all her dealings with others, the only honorable course of prompt payment should be practiced.

At first it seemed to Kate that it was needless caution, and she laughingly asked him how sho was ever to dispose of one half the sum that he placed at her command; but in a little time, as

Miss Bryant's influence over her increased, she began to wonder how she should contrive to pay the sewing-girl's bill, or get the new bonnet that Fanny assured her was so charmingly adapted to her complexion. The little purse, that was so plump and round for six months after her marriage, was often empty before a year was out, and Kate's little head was frequently harassed by the most intricate calculations.

"You will have to learn our city ways, and buy on credit yet," Fanny said to her one morning, as they were looking over a new style of shawls, in a fashionable shop. "It will never do to let such bargains as these slip by, because you have not the money ready at the moment required. Why, there is scarce a lady among our friends, who pretends to pay up promptly, and some of their bills run a long time. But you country folks are so afraid of trifles. It's the way you are educated, I suppose."

"It's not that, Fanny. You know as well as I do, that Charles has a horror of debt."

"Well, this would hardly be called a debt, even by him. You will be able to pay within a month, I dare say."

"Yes, in less time."

"And yet you can hesitate, when this is such a chance to buy cheap. There are only two shawls of this pattern, and I shall take one at any rate, though when it will be paid for I can't say. Mr. Brown is sure of getting the money from papa, if I fail, so he will be easy, and so shall I. Come, Kate, buy the other, and we can dress alike. Just try it on. Now look at yourself in that mirror. Does it not look splendidly, Mr. Brown?" she asked of the merchant, who had been standing silently by, quite willing to be assisted by Miss Bryant in driving a good bargain.

Charming! Do, Kate, darling, be once persuaded by me, and not suffer this rare opportunity to slip by."

"Let me have the pleasure of sending it to your house this morning," said Mr. Brown. "I can not answer for its remaining on sale an hour, madam, or I would not urge the matter; but it is seldom that we have any thing so charming in the market, and it will not be possible to keep it long."

"I can not pay for it this morning," hesitated Kate; "I should prefer waiting till I can pay for

it;" and she began reluctantly to take it off. The delicate compliments of the merchant had so enhanced its value in her eyes, that she felt it quite a sacrifice to give it up.

"I should be happy to trust Mrs. Lane to any amount. I have the names of many ladies of your acquaintance on my books. We hardly look upon these little transactions as debts; they are only temporary accommodations, the necessity for which will often occur in a lady's experience, and which it is really a pleasure to us to render. You are not used to our customs yet, and allow a trifling matter to be an inconvenience to you."

Thus persuaded, Kate finally yielded, and the shawl was purchased and sent home. But it was a heavy heart that Kate now began to carry about into all her scenes of pleasure. Other bills became due, and were paid; but they seemed suddenly to have acquired great magnitude, and to drain more deeply than ever the purse that was to save the money for the shawl. Other debts, too, were added to the first; it didn't seem to matter so much if the original sum were increased a little, if present ease could be secured. Charles tried in vain to find out the cause of the cloud that now shaded her brow. The merry, careless laugh of other days, sounded hollow and unnatural, and she, whom he had begun to fear was never to arrive at the years of serious reflection, had frequent fits of sadness, that were wholly unaccountable. He began to think that he had neglected her, and he again accompanied her to each party of pleasure; but the gloom still remained; for into the brightest of those gay assemblies would steal the remembrance of her weakness and folly, and she was ready to weep, as she sought vainly some way to escape from the coming evil. She tried hard to appear unconcerned and happy, for she had learned to dread, as a means of detection, the watchful love of her husband; but her forced gayety did not deceive him, though he imagined every cause but the right one for her prolonged melancholy.

"O, dear!" said Kate, one day, to her friend, "if Charles should ever know about those stolen goods, I should never be happy again." "Stolen, Kate!"

"I feel as if they were. They are not mine, at any rate. I have no right to them, and when they will be paid for I can not tell. Sometimes I think I'll tell Charles all about it, and let him despise me. It would be better than this continual fear of being suspected."

"No it wouldn't." Fanny had her own reasons for keeping Charles in ignorance. "You know, darling Kate, his horror of debt It is a

morbid feeling, to be sure, and perfectly unreasonable, so far as your little embarrassments are concerned, but I suppose he can't help it. Do you know what makes him so particular?"

"It is because he is honest and upright. O that I were worthy of him!"

"Nonsense! You have a fit of the dumps, Kate. Mr. Lane, being an orphan, was brought up by his uncle, who somehow became greatly embarrassed in business, and in a fit of despair shot himself.” "Dreadful!"

"Yes, it was very shocking. His dying did not mend the matter or pay the bills, so he was not overwise, I think. But being a near relative, it made a great impression upon Mr. Lane. It's a pity, for you would be much happier, dear, if he were not so precise."

"If he were less honorable, you mean. No, Fanny, I should be happier if I were honorable, too."

CHAPTER II.

One fine morning in early autumn Miss Bryant came to her friend's house in a great hurry.

"Come, Kate," she exclaimed, "come go with me to Brown's. He has a lot of new fancy silks, and we'll have our pick of them before the whole town gets a chance to overhaul them."

"I don't need a silk now, Fanny. You know it was only last month that we had those expensive brocades. Charles calls me his little spendthrift."

"In fun."

"In fun, of course. But you see he is in business, and papa says he needs a great deal of money for capital, and mamma whispered to me as I took leave of her the last time that I was at home, that she was afraid I had yet to learn how to economize."

"I hate the very word economy, don't you? It has such a vulgar sound, so countrified, you see. As if we were obliged to look at a cent on both sides before spending it. It does for old folks to preach of economy. I dare say we shall do it in our turn. But I am all impatience to get to Brown's. What are you waiting for? Isn't the husband willing for Kate to go out?"

"What nonsense! You know, Fanny, that Charles never interferes with my actions in any way. He never even inquires what becomes of all the money that he places at my disposal. I wish he did, though," added Kate, sighing deeply. "Now, you ought to thank the generous stars who gave you to a man not disposed to meddle. No woman likes to have her affairs too curiously

looked into, even by her liege lord; and you, Kate, would not be particularly charmed to have your husband study out the sum total of your liabilities."

"You are hardly fair, Fanny. It was your persuasion that induced me to buy that last hat.” "My persuasion!"

"Yes, indeed. Did you not say that you knew Charles's taste so well, and that he would be delighted with it? Well, he thinks it a fright, and I have wished over and over again that I had never seen it, but it is too late to wish about it. I gave it to Maria, the daughter of our laundress, and a pretty figure she cuts in it."

“Well, well, that has nothing to do with the new silks at Brown's. You can go with me and look at them, I suppose, if you do not purchase.” "Yes, I should like the walk. I feel so dull and low-spirited."

"Meditating on mamma's whisper of economy is what has caused it. Now, Kate, if only the thought of economy produces such troubled looks and faint spirits, what would the practice of it do?"

The two ladies were soon busily engaged in the inspection of the new goods, and the morning hours slipped by unperceived. Kate was soon, as Miss Bryant said, herself again, and mamma's wise suggestion was forgotten. Again Kate yielded to the influence of her friend, and before they left the shop each had purchased a fancy silk, to be worn at a large party that was to be given the next week. It is true that a few misgivings crossed the mind of Mrs. Lane as she selected the rich trimming, but the lively, piquant remarks of her friend drove away the gathering cloud, and she listened with a pleased look to the sugared compliments of the polite merchant.

It was, however, only for a short time that she forgot the real state of her affairs, and now, for the first time, she asked Mr. Brown to favor her with the amount of her bill. She put it in her pocket without looking at it, and really vexed with herself for her easy compliance with Fanny's wishes, and half angry with her friend for interfering so readily in her affairs. She began to retrace her way homeward in so sad and silent a mood that Miss Bryant, who had been exulting in the success of her plans for her, was quite ready to take leave at the door and hurry off to call on other acquaintances. Kate hurried up stairs to her own room and sat down almost in despair.

"It was only this morning," she said to herself, "that I sat here and resolved so sincerely that I would never buy on credit again. And here is a costly dress that I do not need or want added to

the rest, because I am so weak and foolish that I dare not act for myself. I am a mere tool that Fanny uses as she pleases. I am certain," she continued after a pause, "that Charles does not know her. He would not, I am sure, trust me so often with her if he did. He is too open and unsuspecting himself to observe the fatal influence that she exerts over me. I must break with her or she will ruin me. But, then, a reason for it must be given, and so the whole truth will come out, and what shall I do when Charles knows how little I am to be trusted? Is there no other way?"

She mechanically pulled out the merchant's account and looked it over. The amount startled her. "Eighty dollars for laces only! O me! I could not have believed it. Six hundred dollars in all, and then I owe two hundred more to Fanny, who would ask it of Charles directly if I offended her. I know what I will do. I will go home to mamma and tell her every thing. She will love her poor Kate just the same, and though she can not help me pay this money I shall feel better if she knows all. And this last silk, why, it will do for sister Clara. Mamma wrote for me to send out such a dress for her, and I, in my trouble, quite forgot it."

Kate's face brightened perceptibly as she took up her mother's letter and read it over the second time. "How fortunate!" she exclaimed. "It seems that I have bought exactly what mamma requires."

Another piece of good fortune was in store for Kate. A visitor was announced, an unwelcome visitor, too; a lady who was particularly disliked in society because of her vulgar attempts at costly and especially gorgeous display; often setting all rules of propriety at defiance in her efforts to outdo others. It was, therefore, with feelings little akin to pleasure that Kate met her in the parlor.

"Ah, Mrs. Lane, how charmingly you look! A little pale, to be sure, but that is becoming to you. My Augusta tells me that a lily complexion is now quite the fashion. It is thought so interesting. But Augusta is so rosy naturally, and is so disgusted by her own color, that she suffers dreadfully. You would hardly believe me, Mrs. Lane, if I should tell you of the quantity of chalk and cloves that she has taken to destroy the red in her cheeks, but it is of no use, she is as flowery as a milkmaid. Mr. Larkin, dear good soul, advises her to try gravestones. What do you think of it?"

"I don't know, indeed," replied Kate, laughing at the idea.

Lane, and how I am ever to meet Augusta I don't know. The poor girl will be in despair."

"What has happened?" asked Kate, becoming serious as she saw the evident perplexity of her visitor.

"Nothing has happened, but Augusta, dear girl, went to Church last Sabbath, and Miss Fanny Bryant wore a shawl that so captivated her fancy that she is sure she shall never be contented again without a similar one. I have been over the whole city in vain. There are some very much like Miss Bryant's at Warren's, but nothing short of the exact pattern will do. Augusta is very particular, and Miss Bryant is her model in dress."

Kate could hardly help laughing again as she remembered Fanny's vexation at being so exactly copied by the young lady in question, and once the plan now suggested to her mind would have been discarded as treacherous to her friend, but she began to see things in their true light and replied without hesitation:

"There were only two shawls of that pattern. They were sold at Brown's. Miss Bryant took one and I bought the other. I have worn mine only once, and as I have no particular preference for the pattern and can easily suit myself with another, Miss Augusta can have it if she chooses."

The calm tones of Kate's voice hardly corresponded with the quick throbbing of her heart as a prospect of materially lightening her embarrassments thus opened before her.

"Now, will you really be so obliging? I declare it must have been Providence that sent me in here," said Mrs. Parker suddenly becoming pious as her troubles vanish, "and truly, as the Scripture says, 'A friend in need is a friend indeed.' Augusta will die with delight. Let me take the shawl to her myself, Mrs. Lane, if it is not making too much trouble. I shall never forget your kindness. But it is like you, Mrs. Lane. Every body is speaking of your goodness; even poor Mrs. Churchill+whose baby you dressed so prettily after it was dead-says she shall never be contented till she does the same for you. What is the price of this shawl?"

Kate had sent for it and Mrs. Parker had been unfolding it and gazing admiringly upon it while speaking.

"Two hundred dollars, ma'am."

"Indeed! And Miss Bryant paid that for

hers?"

"Yes. The price was the same."

"Well, it seems a great sum to pay, but Augusta would not wear a lower-priced one. So

know if I can oblige you at any time. You will excuse me if I hurry home. I want to see her try it on. Won't she be pleased, though ?”

And the really thankful mother hurried off with her prize, leaving Kate in a still more grateful frame of mind.

"How angry Fanny will be when she sees that shawl worn!" she thought as she went back to her room; "but it is not so unfair as it is for her to take such advantage of my inexperience as she does. It seems sometimes as if she really contrived ways to get me involved in debt; but she could have no interest in doing that, and so I will not wrong her. But I will in future act for myself, and no more unnecessary articles will I buy till these are paid for. I am resolved on that, at any

rate."

There was a lurking doubt and trembling at the bottom of her stout resolutions, a little of irresolute dread in her heart, as she thought how frequently she had yielded to temptation; but her face wore a happier expression than it had for months, and she met Charles with something of the old confident smile when he came to dinner. He, hailing it as an omen of future content, became in his turn unusually cheerful.

"I want to go home this afternoon, Charles." "Is not this home?" he asked, his face growing serious as he attributed her restored spirits to her anticipation of meeting her friends.

"Yes. This is the dearest, the best home, and I shall hurry back to-morrow. I shall not take you away from all the business that you so love to worry over, and you will hardly miss me before the morning train brings me back again."

"You must bring sister Clara back with you. Is it not time for another visit from mamma? Tell them to come directly. My pet is getting lonesome. Ah! that smile does not deceive me, Katie; I've seen it for a long time."

"You are certainly mistaken, Charles."

him that whatever might be the cause of her unhappiness, it was not a want of affection for him.

(TO BE CONTINUED.)

SPICE ISLANDS

VISITED IN THE SEA OF EDITORIAL READING.*
EXPERIENCE THE EMOLUMENT OF AGE.

(HOULD we inquire if age has any emolument,

Are not the whole beautiful, ever-moving world of the young, in poverty for the want of it? searching, trying, tasting, snatching at garlands and grasping thorns, chasing meteors, embarking on fathomless tides, and in danger of being swallowed up by quicksands? The aged, through toil and hazard, through the misery of mistake, or the pains of penitence, have won it. Safe in their casket are gems polished by long attrition, and gold-dust, well-washed, perchance, in fountains of tears.

SYMPATHIES IN THE FIELD OF INTELLECT.

The sympathies that spring from community of labor in the field of intellect are salutary and graceful. Those minds that are above the petty asperities of rivalship, have often thus enjoyed a friendship of singular depth and fervor.

COLUMNS OF INTELLECT.

If the founders of those time-honored edifices, on which the storms of ages have beaten in vain, are regarded with reverence, is it not a privilege to be permitted to rear, in the realm of intellect, columns on whose Corinthian capital lingers the smile of Heaven as a never-setting sun?

WHAT CHARITY IS.

Every good act is charity. Your smiling in

your fellow-man to virtuous deeds is equal to

road is charity; your assisting the blind is charity;

"Nothing. Indeed, Charles, I have all I want, and if I am sometimes a little out of spirits, it is not your fault. I'm getting old and steady, you

see.”

"Well, well, bring back some of the folks with you. I will go to the station and see you safely off, and I shall come out myself in the evening train."

structions, from the road, is charity; your giving water to the thirsty is charity. A man's true wealth hereafter is the good he does in this world to his fellow-man. When he dies people will say, "What property has he left behind him?" But the angels will ask, "What good deeds has he sent before him?"